Sunday, June 21, 2009

Why blame me for everythingWhen even the breathe I live byIs not mine to keep or throwAnd thus who am I to make you glow?

Just a dust particle I am in this universeBlown here and there by the same windBy which we all breathe to sustain the lifeAnd in this uncertainty what happiness you crave from me?

Escaping the routines of lifeI dance little different stepsTo try a rhythm different and newSo my boredom won’t renewIn search I always remain helplessSo, nothing will come from me to help you.

A traveler traversing the road not takenEverything is but a new experience sans explanationI just get on it and let myself be engrossed in itAnd, how can I explain everything me to you?

Like the boat that sails a lonely riverMy life takes the twists across the turbulent mindSometimes everything is nothing but pleasure,Yet, who am I to teach you about lifeWhen in pain I too whine?Somehow the clouds passed byLeaving the wet trails behindYou would have understood meHad you waited,But sometimes history hides wellBeyond which memories can’t reach.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

The wings of summer are withering
In beauty decayed.
Melted in the wonder of death
To open the mind for new presents
Rush of colors
Time of riping fruits
You are falling into yourself
Finding wealth
Sun and moon into a new light
Nothing is more lively then to die amused
Open yourself to the darkness
To see the light inside of you.

Monday, June 08, 2009

A tale I heard of a bookThat speaks of the horror world beyond,Beyond reach of bones and skin.A bloody world that lie within the book speaks of dusty end,I could see from within the cells of my mindThe book was thick and blackAnd covered with dust,A settled sign of sleeping time.

Without awakening the soulMy mind reached out to grab the book,Its boards were bowed and creakingBlood oozed out from the coverAnd my hands were smeared red.

For a moment the horrifying redSpread across my palm,Before the aromatic smell of fine tomato ketchupSneaked into my nose.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Patented within each one’s limbic system,A God of ideology,An eternal power leading us somewhere,Where there are sleeping dreams waitingTo squeeze and cajole our innermost fears and desires,And waking dreams to speak out loud the truthWhat seems is not always as it seems.

Monday, June 01, 2009

One evening as I was walking along a beach saturated with golden sands, the waters spread far beyond the reach of my vision and the bed of the sea appeared crystal clear before me. Coconut trees dotted the shoulders of the beach, with a few coconuts swimming gaily, under the watchful eyes of the ocean. Mesmerized by this beatific vision in creation, I allowed my legs to be rooted in the beach for a moment. A divine feeling arose in me; pleasant tears began to roll in bliss. Ineffable. I clapped my hands watching the show, the rise and fall of the waves’ innocence.

Suddenly, I heard someone calling me. I saw a little boy running towards me. As he reached nearer and nearer I saw tears rolling down his cheeks, visibly tears of pain. “Sir, my sister is dead. A man shot her in the chest, and walked away with the little possession she had, a small gold ring”. I accompanied him to where his sister lies and the horrific sight erased the beatific vision of creation rendered to me earlier. The sea and beach disappeared from my sight, but replaced by blood. I was speechless. I switched off my dream before the police arrive at the scene. As I pushed my blanket away from me, I realized I was in tears.